Hurting
by Anneliza
Summary: Arthur is hurt but why? France is determined to find out.


Arthur walked into the conference room with a limp that caught the attention of only one of the people waiting inside.

"What's wrong, mon ami?" Francis called.

Arthur tripped slightly.

"I hit my leg on an end table last night."

Francis crossed to him and helped him to his seat.

"Are you alright?"

"I'll be fine in a couple days."

Francis took the seat next to him and Arthur was vaguely annoyed.

"You can go back to your seat now."

"Non." He pointed at the seat he had been sitting in and they saw Prussia sitting there. "He took it."

Arthur sighed.

"Fine. Just don't try and pull anything!"

"Of course not!" Francis said with hurt in his voice. "I wouldn't dream of trying anyzing while you're injured!"

"Good."

They sat in silence for the rest of the meeting.

When it was finally over, Arthur stood up and started heading for the door.

His leg gave out beneath him and he fell to the ground.

"Angleterre!" Francis yelled as he ran over to the man.

"Yo British dude! Are you okay?"

"I simply fell. I'm perfectly healthy."

Francis ignored that and scooped him into his arms.

"Put me down this instant! I don't need your help!"

Francis made sure that Arthur wasn't going to be able to get away and walked out the door.

"Are you listening to me at all?" Arthur demanded.

"Oui. But you obviously are 'urt and need 'elp."

Arthur kept fighting to remove himself from the Frenchman, but was unsuccessful.

Francis managed to get Arthur to his car and laid him in the backseat.

He locked the door before the man could grab it.

"Let me out of here!"

"Non. I'm going to take care of you."

Arthur glared at him.

Francis slipped into the driver's seat and started the car.

"This is kidnapping you know!"

"Mon petit chou, calm down. I'm not going to do anyzing zat you don't like."

Arthur continued to glare, but lay back down on the seat.

"I'm glad ze meeting is in Lyon. I can drive to my home in Rhône-Alpes in less zan deux heures."

"Don't you have a home in Lyon?" Arthur asked a little desperately. He didn't fancy being alone with Francis in the middle of the country.

Francis shook his head.

"Not anymore. It burned down last year," he said sadly.

Arthur didn't say anything.

Surely he should have heard of such an event but apparently he paid even less attention to the French nation then he thought.

Francis pushed a button on the control panel and music filled the car.

Arthur's eyes widened when he recognized the song.

"I-Is that The Ramones?"

"Oui. Believe it or not, but j'adore the music your country produces."

Arthur stared at the back of Francis's seat while he drove.

* * *

><p>After nearly two hours, they pulled into the driveway of Francis's house.<p>

"We've arrived, mon favori."

"It's about bloody time," Arthur grumbled as he struggled to sit up.

"Désolé. Ze traffic didn't 'elp."

"I know you git."

Francis sighed and climbed out of the car.

He unlocked the door and reached inside to pull Arthur out.

"I can walk!"

"I don't want to take ze chance zat you might fall again."

Arthur crossed his arms and huffed, but let the older man pick him up.

Francis carried him inside and set him gently on the guest bed, pulling his shoes and socks off.

"You arse! I knew better than to trust you!"

He tried to get off the bed but only succeeded in helping Francis pull his pants off.

"Calm down. I just want to see your leg."

Arthur stopped struggling when he felt a pair of shorts cover his boxers.

"What are you doing?" he asked in confusion.

"The scar stops below your knee so I didn't to see any higher. I thought you prefer having somezing covering your Union Jack."

Arthur blushed.

"Y-You're not going to try and molest me?"

Francis looked him in the eyes.

"I said I wasn't going to while you were injured. I meant that."

Arthur blushed harder.

Francis had taken his feelings into account.

"Thank you frog."

Francis just nodded and removed his shoes and socks.

"As much as I'd love to see your 'Big Ben', I don't want to 'urt you furzer."

Francis gasped when he took the sight of Arthur's legs in.

"L'amour," he whispered with care. "What happened to you?"

Arthur turned his head away.

"I told you. I hit a table last night."

Francis gently ran his finger up a faded scar that almost reached his hip, but stopped his finger at the man's knee.

"Zis scar is a lot older zan last night. When is it from?"

"It's a very old scar. I don't even remember. It's probably when I was little. I probably fell on something and as I grew, the scar stretched."

"Don't lie to me mon cher. What happened?"

Arthur closed his eyes and shook his head desperately.

"How many scars do you 'ave?" Francis demanded suddenly.

The younger man started shaking at his voice.

"I-I don't know," he admitted.

Francis watched him for a moment.

"Sit up," he commanded.

Arthur did so immediately; Francis was starting to scare him.

Francis helped him sit against the headboard for a moment before starting to unbutton his shirt and pull it off.

Arthur closed his eyes tighter and looked down.

Hundreds of savage scars decorated the man's front.

Some looked centuries old while others seemed relatively new.

"Who has been doing zis to you?"

"N-No one. Those are leftover from wars."

Francis took Arthur's chin and forced him to look in his angry blue ones.

"A lot of zese are new. I can't stand you lying to me about somezing like this."

Arthur stared at him for a long time before big tears started falling from his eyes.

Francis pulled him close, making sure not to hurt him, and let him cry.

"Who is it?" he whispered in the man's ear.

Arthur sobbed wildly for a while before he managed to calm down enough to mutter one word.

"S-Scotland."

Francis's grip tightened and his face darkened.

"Your brother 'as been doing zis to you?"

Arthur nodded against his shoulder.

"Bâtard."

Arthur cried for a long time but eventually he wore himself out and Francis laid him down again.

He stood up and started to leave the room.

"Frog?" Arthur's voice asked quietly with his eyes still closed.

"Oui?"

Francis looked back at him.

"Thank you."

"Of course."

He slipped out the door and went to his bathroom.

'How Scotland do something like that to his own brother?'

He punched a wall and left a sizable hole in it.

An idea came to him and he pulled his phone out.

"Hello?" a gruff voice answered.

Francis scowled. The man was obviously drunk.

However he put a smile on his face and responded warmly.

"Hello cher."

He knew the other was smirking.

"Oh hello Francis. I've been waiting for you to finally call."

"Oh? Why is zat?"

"Because I've always wanted you to come over here and be screwed by me."

Francis's face crinkled in disgust but he forced himself to remain cheery.

"Well zat could be arranged."

"Great. I've been waiting for you to give up on my prick of a brother for years."

Francis clenched his fists and shook a little.

"Why don't you come by later? I'll be waiting for you."

"I'll see you around eight."

"See you zen cher!"

Francis hung up and smiled cruelly.

"Zat worked well."

He pulled the bandages and a splint for the man's broken leg out from underneath the sink and walked back to Arthur's room.

Arthur had fallen asleep and Francis's face lightened.

"Don't worry Angleterre. I'm going to deal with Scotland. He won't bother you ever again."

He crossed to Arthur's side and started to treat his injuries.

* * *

><p>Scotland would be here soon and Francis was trying to finish getting ready.<p>

He pulled a purple button up shirt on and but left it open; he wanted to tease.

The doorbell rang as he finished fixing his hair.

He smirked and went to answer the door.

"Hello Francis."

"Bonjour."

Scotland grinned darkly and moved before Francis could avoid him.

His lips latched onto Francis's and he kept him there harshly.

Francis managed to push him off.

"What the hell?"

Francis smiled at him.

"Don't worry cher. I just didn't want to waste any time."

Scotland smirked.

"You that eager?"

"Of course cher. I've wanted zis for a long time but I wanted to be your frère's first even if he didn't want it. I finally gave up on 'im zhough."

"That prick isn't worth your time."

Francis wanted to punch him but held back.

Instead he strolled up to Scotland in a sexy way and started to tug his shirt off.

Scotland beamed and let Francis continue.

Francis managed to get the man to his boxers before he moved back.

"What?"

"Oh nozing," Francis trilled. "Just close your eyes."

Scotland shrugged and complied.

Francis reached into his pocket and pulled a pair of handcuffs out.

He closed one around Scotland's wrist without him noticing and wound the chain through the door handle before securing the man's other wrist.

Scotland felt the second handcuff and his eyes shot open.

"What are you doing?"

Francis smiled evilly.

"I didn't want you to go anywhere."

"Why? I'm on top!"

Francis laughed.

"Oh, dear Scotland. You zink I really wanted to sleep wiz you? No. I love your frère." He walked closer to the other man. "Why would I ever want you? You're a 'orrible person!"

"What are you talking about?"

Francis glared at him.

"I saw what you've been doing to Angleterre! All zose wounds zat weren't necessary!"

"Yes they were! At first it was just a way to relieve stress, but after a while I realized that that prick has been everyone's favorite since he was born! No one ever noticed the rest of us next to him! I've always hated him for that! Whenever I'm angry I go over to his place and beat the crap out of him until I feel better!"

"You sicken me! Arthur doesn't deserve zat! He should only be treated with respect and kindness! No wonder he doesn't trust anyone! You destroyed any possibility of zat years ago!"

"Why do you care so much? The prick hates you!"

"I love Angleterre!"

They heard a gasp and Francis spun around.

Arthur was standing at the base of the stairs staring at them. He was clutching desperately to the banister and it looked like he might fall.

"Look it's the prick now. He just heard your pitiful declaration of love and now he's going to reject you in front of me."

Francis turned and punched him the face.

"Francis?"

Francis was surprised by the use of his name rather than 'frog' and he faced Arthur.

"Oui?" he asked a little nervously.

"Did you just say that you love me?"

Francis nodded slowly.

"I've loved you for centuries."

Arthur blushed and walked carefully to his side.

He closed his eyes and kissed Francis's cheek.

Francis's jaw dropped.

Arthur pulled back, bright red.

"I love you too."

Francis quickly got over his surprise and pulled the blond into his arms.

Arthur smiled and put his arms around the Frenchman.

"I'm never letting you go," he murmured so only the Englishman could hear.

Francis picked Arthur up and went up the stairs to his room.

He laid the man on the bed and crawled on top of him.

Arthur blushed even brighter and put his arms over his face.

Francis tried to pull his arms away but he wouldn't budge.

He put his face next to the man's ear.

"Did you know I haven't slept with anyone else since I realized zat I loved you?"

Arthur was so shocked that his arms fell away.

"Are you serious?"

Francis looked into his eyes.

"Oui. Zose have just been rumors. I haven't been in bed with anyone in centuries."

Arthur stared at him.

"You haven't been with anyone else in that long? How did you manage?"

Francis blushed.

"Oh."

Francis nodded.

"Is that why you always paid me some much attention? And tried to grope me all the time?"

"I was trying to let you know the only way I knew how."

"I just thought you were trying to molest me."

"Non. I was trying to tell you I loved you."

Arthur smiled through his bright blush.

"No one will ever 'urt you again," Francis said sternly. "I promise."

"Thank you Francis."

Francis smiled at him before the two shared a passionate kiss.

Scotland was left tied to the door in only his boxers as the two upstairs moved onto more explicit activities.

He was forced to listen to every noise they made and could only cringe in horror.

Francis and Arthur on the other hand were quite happy and quite in love.

* * *

><p>AN: Don't you love it when your parents take YOUR computer away when you need it most? And then when you're trying to sleep, you can only think of story ideas? .<p>

But yeah. Everyone knows that Scotland used to abuse England when he was younger. And I was thinking about that a lot last night and France comforting him so I decided to write something.

Anyway! See ya soon!


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